Half-mast for the Deemster (Inspector Littlejohn)

by George Bellairs

  "The police-car was parked up the road. How did you see that?"

  "I passed it on the way out. So I knew I'd hit a copper. That was why I took the boat this mornin' and knew why they came for me."

  Littlejohn stood at the window.

  "Show me where you met him. Point it out. . . ."

  With a dirty forefinger Fannin indicated the spot through the window.

  "And what did you do with the body?"

  "I was in a panic. He was out cold. I carried it behind the stables and hid it in the bushes."

  "The nettle bed, you mean. We found him there."

  The vicar looked sharply at Littlejohn.

  "Anything more to say, Fannin? Did you see or hear anything else?"

  "As I ran up the road, past the car, I heard what sounded like a shot. I thought the copper had come round and was potting at me. Then I went on and dropped into Colby. I walked till the first bus picked me up."

  "You heard nothing going on in the garden or the outbuildings when you were trying to get in the vicarage?"

  "I thought I heard a horse or something in the stables, but I wasn't scared by that."

  "There wasn't any horse there. Lucky you didn't try to steal that as well, otherwise you might not be here to tell the tale. A man was murdered there last night. The constable you laid out has recovered, but is still in hospital. You'll now be taken and charged with violence to an officer, resisting arrest, and house-breaking, and that will keep you occupied for some time. Take him off, constable. . . ."

  "And I didn't kill anybody?"

  "By good luck, you just missed doing. But don't congratulate yourself. By the way, what have you been doing whilst you've been over here sponging on your grandmother?"

  "Nothin' much."

  "Well, if you decide to tell us some more, just let the constable know. You'll be our guest for quite a time. . . . All right. Away with him."

  The Archdeacon sagged into a chair.

  "This is beyond me," he said wearily. "The place must have been alive with people last night and I seem to have slept through most of it. Do you believe that rascal?"

  "We'd better hear what Knell has to say when he's fit to talk."

  Outside a party of policemen were approaching the vicarage. They had been searching the grounds for clues and had found nothing. The footprints were confused and defaced around the stables and nettle bed and were no use at all. Two other men, knowing that Alcardi had been using an old car and had most likely arrived at Grenaby in it on his last journey, had been hunting for it. They had found it and had called to report.

  "We've found the car, Inspector. . . ."

  The constable was a heavy, beefy man with a Manx brogue.

  "Yes?"

  "It was in Joe Henn's summer-house."

  Littlejohn could have laughed outright! In the dead of night, somebody had violated Mr. Henn's 'ut, by driving a car into it!

  "However came it to be there?"

  The constable, red from his efforts, inserted his finger between his helmet and his brow, whereat a trickle of sweat ran down his face and off the tip of his wide chin. He puffed and blew.

  "Mr. Henn's making a path past his summer-house into the garden. It's a wide sort of gravelled drive and he's not got a gate for it yet, so it's open to the road, sir. The car must have been driven down it to hide it. . . ."

  "In other words, Alcardi may have been followed and was seeking a turn off the road. I wonder if he was running without lights. Was it clear enough for him to see without them?"

  "Oh, yes. It was clear and starry with the full moon showin' early in the morning," said the bobby, like an amateur astronomer.

  "Then, he must have been chased. I wish we could get hold of Knell and hear his tale. . . . Has anybody inquired about him lately?"

  The constable shook his head.

  "Not since about ten, sir. He was then said to be sleeping peaceably."

  "I'll ring now," said the vicar and went out to the telephone. He was back in two minutes.

  "He's got up and walked out," he said. "And this is the last straw. Only forty-eight hours ago, I was getting myself ready to go to Douglas, planning in my mind how to give you a quiet, healthy holiday. Since when. . . ."

  He raised his hand and ticked off the fingers.

  "Three murders, a policeman laid-out, attempted burglary at my home, a badly damaged detective rises from his bed and walks out of the hospital, and someone violates our friend Henn's pride and joy, his hut, in the dead of night, by driving of all things, a motor-car into it. . . ."

  He shook his head.

  "I've often wished to take part in a criminal investigation, and when I made a good friend of a famous detective, I was overjoyed. Henceforth, I shall be content with the simple things of life, instead of unleasing every form of crime by my meddling."

  "Don't take it hard, sir. These things never seem to come singly. And now, to crown the lot, I see Sergeant Knell, who has arrived in a police car, walking up the drive under his own steam. . . ."

  As Knell passed through the gate, he paused, turned to the spot where Kenneth Fannin had laid him out, nodded as though satisfied with the recollection, and strode to the front door, where he loudly rang the bell.

  "The tap on the head seems to have made Knell unusually aggressive," said the Archdeacon.

  Knell looked a bit pale and dazed, but grimly determined to stick it out.

  "I'm glad to see you about, Reggie," said the Archdeacon, and Littlejohn said that went for them all.

  "I'm sorry to let you down, sir," replied the sergeant. "But I seemed to be watching two parties at once and only one of them visible. The invisible one knocked me out and the next I knew, I was coming-to in the nettle bed. Then, things went blank again, and when I woke up, I was just getting engaged to Millie Teare. . . ."

  The constable standing at the door of the study raised his eyes to heaven. So, Knell was starting rambling again, like he was when they found him earlier in the day! It took the young detective quite a time to convince Littlejohn and the parson, and receive their congratulations. He was shy and confused and his feelings were in a turmoil. . . .

  "And what happened last night, Knell? Sit down."

  Knell took a seat near the door, like one ready to be off at any moment, his hat on his knee.

  "When I left here in the car, sir, I thought I might just go and see my young lady before I put it away. She lives at St. Mark's and it's a bit of a stretch from the 'buses. When I got there, she said she'd like to go to Douglas to the pictures. I couldn't very well say no, sir. So, I ahem . . . borrowed the car again, intending to take her home after the show and then garage it at Castletown. . . ."

  Knell stammered and twisted his hat in his hands.

  "Put your hat down, Reggie, and stop fiddling. Get on with your tale. . . ."

  The parson was getting impatient.

  "It was the last round of the films when we got there . . . about half-past eight. It was dark, sir, and they'd already started. Then, just before the main feature film, the lights went on so that the girls could go round selling ice-cream. I happened to look behind and who did I see but Alcardi. . . ."

  "The Italian?"

  "Yes, your reverence; after he called here to see the Inspector, he must have driven back to Douglas instead of over the mountain, and hidden in the dark in the pictures. It was just a bit of luck I saw him. Millie . . . ahem, my young lady . . . my fiancée . . . saw a girl she knew from her own village and was showing her to me. . . . She was out courting with a fellah on the quiet, you see. . . ."

  "Get on with it, Reggie. Never mind affairs of heart, now. . . ."

  "I'm coming to it, your reverence. I saw this chap on the back row in the darkest spot. He'd his hat over his eyes and his raincoat collar turned up, but I knew him, though I didn't let on I'd recognized him. After that, I kept an eye on him till the end of the show . . . or nearly the end."

  He picked up his hat again and started to knead it with hi
s fingers. It was plain that the emotional part of the story was arriving.

  "I was in a bit of a fix, sir. I'd my fiancée on my hands, though at the time, she wasn't engaged to me, if you understand. . . ."

  The parson raised his hands in a gesture of resignation.

  "When all this is over, Reggie, come to me one or two nights a week, boy, and I'll teach you to express yourself in clear and concise language. It'll do you a lot of good. . . ."

  Outside, Joe Henn had appeared and was trying to get through the vicarage gate, from which a constabulary sentinel was struggling to prevent him. Henn was wild-eyed and dishevelled at the violation of his summer-house. They could hear him shouting from where they were, indoors.

  "Somebody's parked a car in me 'ut and there's bobbies all over the place. Have they put it in, because I'm goin' to make a case out of this. It's shameful. Where's the Inspector. Get that car out of the 'ut. . . ."

  The sentinel talked quietly to him, they gesticulated at one another, Henn waved his arms angrily about and ran away, presumably to find some higher authority.

  "I said to Miss Teare, 'Excuse me, a minute,' I said. And with that I followed Alcardi, who was leaving before the lights went on again. His car was in the car-park and he went straight to it. My car . . . the police car, I mean, was there, too, and you can imagine the fix I was in when Alcardi drove off right away. I'd got to follow him, hadn't I? And no way of letting Millie know. There she was, stranded, and might let the last 'bus to Ballasalla go without her. Luckily, she's a girl with some sense, and she caught it without the risk of my not turning up. . . ."

  "She'll make an excellent policeman's wife, Reggie. And now get on with Alcardi. . . ."

  Knell glanced reproachfully at his tormentor, and the parson waved his hand to speed him on.

  "He gave me a rare run for my money. Good job there was plenty of petrol in the tank. We went nearly three times round the Island. He seemed to have gone mad."

  Littlejohn removed his pipe.

  "He must have been terribly scared of something or someone. First, he called here after Irons warned him. That was presumably to tell me something and obtain police protection. Finding me out, why didn't he go to the police-station, instead of going and hiding in the cinema? After the chase, he came here, even in the small hours, presumably after me, and whoever he feared killed him. . . ."

  "But why, as you say, Littlejohn, all this chasing about?"

  "I think I have it, parson. He was afraid to go near the official police-stations because he was scared to death that his enemy was on the look-out for him. He came here, therefore, found out I wasn't in, and perhaps decided to hang about and try again. . . ."

  Knell indicated that he wished to speak.

  "When I left here last night with the car, sir, I came across a car parked in the quiet spot just past Joe Henn's house. I slowed up and the car started off like a shot and tore ahead of me all the way to Ballasalla. I didn't suspect anything at the time. . . ."

  He didn't add that his thoughts were entirely on Millie Teare!

  ". . . And when we got to the cross roads, I went on to St. Mark's, and the other car took the Douglas fork. There were a few of us about the cross roads at the time and perhaps if one of the other cars behind followed what we think was Alcardi's car, the Italian thought he was being still chased. At any rate, he ended up hiding in the picture-house. . . ."

  "And during this three times round the Island marathon, did Alcardi call anywhere?"

  "Yes, sir. He made three calls. Two in Ramsey and one at the airport at Ronaldsway."

  "Trying to get off the Island, Knell?"

  "Looked like it, sir. The Ramsey calls were, one at a public-house on the quayside, and the other a ship tied up by the custom-house."

  "Just a minute, Knell. This round the Island-trip. . . . Did you follow on his heels?"

  "Yes, sir. I put my lights out most of the time. There wasn't much about at that hour. He seemed scared to stop. He must have driven on and on, thinking things out and trying one way and another until in desperation, he decided to come back to Grenaby."

  "Did you get the impression that someone else was following you and Alcardi, Knell?"

  "No, sir. But I'm just beginning to wonder if perhaps somebody had scouts out, looking for Alcardi, and one was posted here at Grenaby, and killed him when he arrived."

  "That's passed through my mind. Kenneth Fannin might have been one of them and when Alcardi fired at him, just brained him, like he tried to do you, Knell."

  "You've got the man who hit me, sir?"

  "Yes. Unhappily, it's Mrs. Keggin's no-good grandson. . . . He tried to make out he was seeking his grandmother, but we later got his confession to attempted house-breaking. Now, it might be murder."

  "God forbid!"

  "When Alcardi finally made for here, sir, I followed him rather quietly, knowing where he was making for and letting him have a bit of rope. Suddenly, he vanished in thin air. His lights went off and I couldn't hear his engine or anything. . . ."

  "That's right. He side-stepped and hid his car in Mr. Henn's summer-house."

  "Did he, now, sir? I took the car up the road, parked it in a gateway and came down here to see where he was. As I came through the garden gate, somebody hit me on the head and I don't recollect another thing till I found myself in the nettle-bed."

  "About this night-ride of yours. What route did Alcardi take?"

  "Along Douglas promenade and then along the coast road all the way to Ramsey. From there over the mountain road to Douglas and the airport. Then he came to Ramsey again and through Ballaugh and Cronk-y-Voddy to Foxdale and Grenaby."

  "And the calls at Ramsey?"

  "There was a boat tied-up there. I got the name. The Jonee Ghorrym. . . ."

  "I know it," interrupted the vicar. "A Ramsey boat. The name, which is Manx, means Blue Judith, the sea-name for mermaid. . . ."

  "Alcardi pulled-up on the quay and went aboard. The man on watch and him had words. They got a bit excited. Especially the sailor, who told Alcardi to take himself off. Which Alcardi did. . . . Then, he went to The Duck's Nest on the quayside. It's a licensed restaurant and is run by a Frenchman. It does very well with meals in the season and I hear it's a very popular meeting-place among the better-class people and the English residents round Ramsey. Sort of club, it's become."

  "And what did Alcardi do there?"

  "He knocked at the door and somebody came. He seemed to be asking them to let him in. There was a lot more arguing and then, the man at the door gave Alcardi a push in the chest that nearly sent him flying, and slammed the door. Alcardi ran back to his car and went back to Douglas over the mountain road. As I said, he went to the airport after that."

  "Was there anybody at the airport?"

  "The control tower was lit up, but the offices were closed. Alcardi then got in the car and back to Douglas and Ramsey again. He tried the boat and The Duck's Nest a second time and got the same answers. The last time in Douglas, he went along the harbour. He seemed to be trying to get a ship, but there was only a Dutchman on the old quay and one of the Ben boats coasting with coal, and he had no luck there."

  "It's obvious he was trying to get off the Island and daren't go on the Steam Packet boat for some reason. Was he afraid of the police, or of someone else? At times, he seems to have got so beside himself that he was prepared to come to me and make some kind of confession. . . . Anything more to report about your night's escapade, Knell? Did you see anybody prowling round here before they knocked you out?"

  "No, sir. . . ."

  "We have one or two other leads, now. There's the boat at Ramsey and The Duck's Nest. And now we can ask Fannin a few more questions about his night's work."

  "Did you find the weapon he used on me, sir?"

  "He said it was a cosh and he flung it overboard before the police picked him up on the boat."

  The telephone interrupted them. It was the Castletown police.

  A roadman on the
way to repair the surface between Grenaby and Ballabeg on the Castletown road, had come across a police car parked on the roadside and, on looking inside, discovered a constable apparently asleep. On investigation, the man was found to be unconscious from a blow on the head. His hands had been handcuffed together. It was the officer who had been sent to put Kenneth Fannin in the cells at Castletown jail. Fannin had been handcuffed then. He could not have escaped without help and it seemed that some accomplices had stopped the police car and freed him. It began to look as if Deemster Quantrell had somehow fallen upon a well-led gang carrying-on some racket or other, and had died because of it. And there seemed to be watchers everywhere seeing to it, by death and violence, that none of their party betrayed its purpose or its head.

  8

  THE DUCK'S NEST

  WHEN the police turned out Alcardi's pockets, they found them empty save for a dirty handkerchief, a packet of cigarettes, matches, and some small change. At the shop he rented in the arcade at Douglas, they discovered little more of use in the case. There seemed to be nothing personal at all, no letters, no money, not even bills. Not a thing, except a dead mouse.

  The shop consisted of a single room with a chair, a counter, shelves partly filled with souvenirs for sale. A cheap curtain divided the place, leaving a small private space behind, which Alcardi seemed to have used for a workshop. A bench with a number of etching tools, a press, some bottles of acid, resin, grease, and printer's ink. . . . In the drawers, some new etching-plates and some finished ones of the pictures sold in the shop. There was a new telephone on the sill of a small window which badly needing cleaning. Littlejohn rubbed the glass and gloomily looked out over the untidy back quarters of boarding-house property; in the yard of one a man was peeling a pile of potatoes; next-door a woman was pegging blankets on a line to dry.

  Finally, a gas-ring and an enamel wash-stand without water laid on. Beneath the stand, a tin water jug and a little reservoir which received the dirty water from the plug-hole of the wash-basin.

  "Funny thing," said Littlejohn. "A telephone, gas laid on, electric light . . . every convenience in a small space, except running water. . . ."